


Stolen

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: All he could think about was what Raptor said. Raptor thought Bruce had stolen him. He could only hope Bruce didn’t think the same about he and Damian, too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I will make everything about how much Dick and Damian love each other if it kills me. Based off/from today’s Nightwing #8.

It was nice to get home.

And not because it meant Bruce was safe, or that Raptor was dealt with, or that the day was saved.

But more, because of who was waiting for them.

“Finally!” Damian shouted, impatiently hopping out of the computer chair as soon as they got out of the car. He met them halfway across the floor, and barely let either of them take a breath before he was wrapping his arms around both of them, and squeezing them in an awkward hug. “Grayson, you took _far_ too long, conducting this rescue!”

“I know, I know.” Dick laughed, squeezing Damian’s shoulders even as Bruce smiled, and patted the boy’s head. “My bad, kiddo.”

“You bet your sorry ass _your bad_.” Damian huffed before turning to Bruce. “Father, are you alright?”

“Never better.” Bruce promised, chuckling himself when Damian refused to let either of them go. “Dick did a good job rescuing me – you should give him a _little_ credit.”

“You’re giving _Grayson_ credit?” Damian asked incredulously, glancing between the two. “…Father, I think you need to be medically cleared by Pennyworth. Come, he’s already waiting.”

Damian finally unwound himself from the two of them, opting instead to grab Bruce’s hand in both of his, and drag him towards the med bay, where Alfred was indeed waiting for them.

Dick remained where he was, watching. Letting the events of the past few hours seep back into his psyche. He felt the smile slipping from his face, as he watched Damian fret, as he watched Bruce humour his youngest.

As Raptor’s words came back into his head.

He was wrong, plain and simple. He was _wrong_ about Bruce, wrong about his motives and lifestyle. Wrong about the kind of man he was.

But there was one thing he said, one thing that struck a chord.

 _“…Who took a son that_ wasn’t _his to raise.”_

But it didn’t make him think about Bruce, not like Raptor intended. Oh, no. Bruce didn’t steal him. Bruce _saved_ him. He always thought that and always will, and no one will _ever_ change that.

But…Damian.

Dick didn’t think about it often. None of them did, but the whole family knew – Dick Grayson was Damian Wayne’s favorite. His mentor, his best friend. His _hero_ , and the standard for every other human being the child met – his father included.

Dick knew the impact he had on his littlest brother. If not for the fact he’d done it purposely in hopes to help him in a dark time, but for everyone telling him. He’d brought out the good in boy, they said. Put him on the right path.

(They always discounted what Damian had done for him right back, though.)

He wondered, with guilt swirling in his gut, if Bruce ever felt like Raptor did. If he ever felt that Damian had been stolen. That Dick was a thief.

Dick turned to the lockers, and was slow in undressing. Reveled in the new aches and pains he’d gained in this most recent fight. Listened to Damian chatter Bruce’s ear off. Scold and chastise and worry over his father and over him equally.

Damian’s voice had died off by the time Dick emerged and made his way towards the med bay himself. He found Bruce sitting on the edge of the cot, Damian dozing against the pillows behind him, as Alfred finished his examination.

Dick snorted a quiet laugh as he approached, and ran his fingers through Damian’s hair.

“He was quite worried about the two of you.” Alfred hummed, messing with the tools on his cart. “Even declined an invitation from the Red Hood for an extra patrol and a stop by the arcade.”

Dick smiled, and Bruce chuckled, but the sound faded as he glanced at his eldest, whose eyes were glued to the bed.

“Everything seems to be in order, Master Bruce.” Alfred declared. “Now, Master Richard, if you would-”

“Can you give us just a minute, Alfred?” Bruce asked quietly. “Just…real quick.”

“Of course, sirs.” Alfred agreed. “Don’t try to get out of a check-up, Master Richard. I _will_ chase you, if I have to.”

Dick gave a smile, even as Alfred left them in peace. As soon as the butler was far enough, Bruce turned to look up at him.

“You okay?” Bruce asked simply.

“…Yeah.” Dick sighed, pushing his fingers through Damian’s hair again. “I just…I don’t know, Bruce. Did you ever…?”

Bruce waited.

“…Could you hear Raptor, from where you were hanging?”

“I could.”

“…That one thing he said. About delivering the kind of justice that wasn’t yours to deliver. Taking a _son_ that wasn’t…”

Still, Bruce waited.

“You never…I mean, with…with Damian…” His voice was quiet. “Bruce, I just want you to know, I love Damian to absolute _death_ , and sometimes I feel like he could…could almost be like…I was never _trying_ …w-what I mean is-”

“I never thought you _stole_ Damian from me, Dick.” Bruce cut off, but with the fatherly warmth he was so good at. When Dick glanced up, he found Bruce smiling. “To the contrary, really. I’m glad that he has such a…a _bond_ with you. And a mentor far better than I could ever be for him, no matter how hard I try.”

Carefully, he reached up and put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I’m _grateful_ that you’re in his life, and for how important you are to him, and what you’ve done for him.” Bruce promised. “Because I know, should anything happen to me again, Damian will still be safe and cared for, because he’ll still have _you_.”

Dick blinked, and smiled weakly, glancing back down to Damian. “Always.”

He gently carded his fingers through Damian’s hair one last time, but it seemed to be the breaking straw. Damian’s face suddenly scrunched, and without opening his eyes, he shifted away from Dick’s fingers, curling halfway down the bed.

“ _Father_ ,” Damian whined, hiding his face against Bruce’s thigh. “Make Grayson _stop_.”

Bruce laughed, as Dick cooed and planted a long kiss to Damian’s cheek, and Alfred returned, motioning for Dick to take a seat for his own examination.

“Will do, son.”


End file.
